In 1987, when Sun & Moon Press first published The Sophist, Charles Bernstein was already one of the dozen or so best known poets of his generation, having gained an enormous amount of visibility as co-editor of the magazine L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E (1978-81). In the eleven years since he first self-published Parsing under the Erving Goffmanesque imprint of Asylum’s Press, Bernstein had published ten additional books of poetry, a collection of essays, Content’s Dream, co-edited his journal, plus an anthology based on it published by Southern Illinois University Press, as well as features on language poetry & environs in both the Paris Review & boundary 2.

In retrospect, it’s almost hard to remember the primitive nature of some of those earliest publications – not only was Parsing basically photocopied and stapled, its cover the dark blue stock you would get for a report cover at Kinko’s, but Shade, Bernstein’s first “large” collection from Sun & Moon was stapled & Xeroxed as well, the first volume in that press’ Contemporary Literature series, an edition of just 500. With the exception of the S.I.U.P collection from L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E, Bernstein’s publications up to 1987 had all the features of any poet in the small presses. Some came from presses that disappeared quickly, such as Pod Books or Awede. One, Islets / Irritations, was initially published by Jordan Davies, who, in lieu of having a more formal imprint, simply listed his name as publisher. Others were either slender suites suitable for chapbooks, such as Stigma, or, in the case of both Legend (co-authored with Bruce Andrews, Ray Di Palma, Steve McCaffery & yours truly) and The Occurrence of Tune, contained just one poem.

Regardless of how or where they were printed, Bernstein’s first three large collections, Shade (1978), Controlling Interests (1980), and Islets / Irritations (1983), were impeccable instances of the well-constructed book of poems. Indeed, after the publication of Controlling Interests by Roof Books, Bernstein’s reputation as a major American poet has never been in question.

None of which prepares you, really, for what follows in The Sophist.